


Seven Levels

by Savageandwise



Series: There Are Places I'll Remember [1]
Category: Music RPF, Real Person Fiction, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, M/M, McLennon, The Death Of Samantha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-27 15:30:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18196019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageandwise/pseuds/Savageandwise
Summary: Sam and Paul get high, fool around and discuss the important things in life.Spin off of my very weird crappy fiction The Death Of Samantha





	Seven Levels

**Author's Note:**

> Word of the day was marijuana.  
> I miss Sam and Paul but can't seem to be able to finish chapter 6. Here's an attempt to get back to them.
> 
> Sorry this is complete garbage and is pointless. Like the last 2 I wrote. I feel Like I'm getting worse!

“What were the seven levels?” Sam asked taking a drag off the blunt. She was lying on the sofa with her feet in his lap.

Paul cradled one foot, stroked the instep. “What's that, love?” 

“Seven levels,” Sam repeated, leaned forward and stuck the blunt between his lips. She rubbed the other foot against his crotch playfully.

“You're a bad influence,” he laughed. 

“Yes. Your father did warn you. But you never did listen.”

He pulled her into his lap abruptly. She straddled him, wrapped her legs around his waist. “I listened to you,” he pointed out.

“Barely,” she said.

He slid a hand over her breast, exhaling lazily.

“Seven levels, Paul,” she reminded him, impatiently pushing up her top and plucking the joint from his grasp.

He rolled a nipple between his fingers. “Fuck if I remember,” he laughed.

“God, what a let down,” Sam sighed. “I've been waiting over fifty years for the answer.”

She ran her nails over his stomach, head tilted back to gauge his expression.

“Shall I invent something, then?” Paul asked unbuttoning his shirt and pulling at it awkwardly.

“Cuffs, babe,” she said, undoing his sleeves.

She kissed the white hair on his chest.

He flicked the end of the joint into the ashtray on the table and pulled off her top.

“Tell you what I think,” Sam said, unhooking her bra so her breasts tumbled free. “You made that shit up to impress poor Mal.”

Paul pushed her back onto the cushions, slid his hands over her bare skin. “I didn't make it up. I can't recall now but it was something to do with love.”

“Naturally,” Sam laughed giddily, opened his trousers and stroking him. 

“All you need is love,” Paul breathed.

“Couldn't have said it better myself.”

"You did say it."


End file.
